


Welcome Home

by Hinn_Raven



Series: Marsha Tabris [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alienages (Dragon Age), Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Age: Origins Quest - Unrest in the Alienage, F/M, Multiple Wardens (Dragon Age), Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2020-02-26 16:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18720895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: Marsha Tabris returns to the alienage, and some things she'd rather stay hidden come out.





	Welcome Home

Marsha was on edge, had been since they had escaped from prison.

Anora was… queenly. That was the only word for it. Marsha wasn’t too happy with her, all things considered, and the fact that she was addressing all of her comments to Seren and Masha, was barely glancing at Krim, and was flat out ignoring her and Lira was only adding further to her displeasure.

She was trying to convince them that Alistair would make a terrible king, and it was taking all of Marsha’s self-restraint not to snort. It was pretty damn clear that Anora’s main concern was keeping the throne.

Her attention snapped back to the actual words Anora was saying when she heard, “Strangely, the unrest has been worst in the alienage. Few elves accompanied the army, so my father and Howe must have given them a reason.”

“Like  _purging_  the alienage?” Marsha couldn’t help herself from speaking up. She’d been doing so well, too. She could feel herself scowl at the queen. “That usually isn’t a great way to keep people happy.”

Anora blinked, as if surprised to see Marsha there. “There are… disturbing rumors coming out of the alienage,” she said, turning her attention back to the Couslands. Marsha felt her eyebrow twitch.

“Fine. I’ll check it out,” Marsha said flatly. Like hell was she going to stand around and be ignored by a Shem noble who thought she was too good to even talk to an elven Warden.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Seren said diplomatically. “You should get ready, we’ll be following your lead on this one.” Marsha couldn’t help but smirk at Anora’s surprised expression.

“ _What should we expect_?” Lira signed to Marsha as they went to the room they shared in Eamon’s Estate. Marsha grabbed her weapons and started to sort through them, mind blazing furiously. Krim leaned against the door, listening intently.

“I’m not sure. It’s been years since the last purge, and that was in response to a minor riot. This was…” Bigger. Her fault. Blood and fire and death because Duncan had saved her from swinging from the gallows. If she had just gone with the guards, would this have happened? People died even from small purges. The gates to the alienage had been closed for weeks now. Marsha couldn’t think of a time that a purge had been that big, not since the Orlesian conquest, at least. And that had been war, with the elves joining resistance movements left and right, killing soldiers. This was on her alone.

She wanted to scream.

“There have been purges before?” Seren and Masha had arrived. Masha had her post-diplomatic scowl on her face, which usually put Marsha in a good mood, but not this time.

Marsha nodded absently. “Two that I can remember. One when I was a kid—a guard was found dead in the alienage, which legally mandated a purge. Then another after King Maric died. There were hunger riots because all the businesses closed and no one could work, so no one could eat. But those were small ones. They torched a few empty buildings, beat up a few elves who were out of their houses, that sort of thing. Only a few people died. This…” Marsha hesitated, unwilling to say her thoughts out loud. “It’s been weeks, and they haven’t let anyone in or out. The longest they kept us in before was two days.”

Everyone looked horrified, except Lira. Marsha wondered if the nobles did similar things to the Dusters, back in Orzammar.

“What was the purge about?” Krim was the one to ask. Marsha froze, almost automatically reaching for her wedding ring, which hung around her neck still. She stopped herself.

“Me.” She hesitated. “I… I killed the previous Arl’s son. I was to be executed. Duncan saved me by recruiting me.”

“Of course he did,” Seren muttered, her eyes flashing slightly. Marsha shifted, uncomfortable. She knew Seren’s feelings on Duncan, but she still harbored a fondness for the man, even knowing what he’d done to the Cousland siblings. He’d saved her. He’d given her stories about her mother. He’d given her a weapon, knowing she could fight her way out.

“You killed Vaughan?” Masha asked, sounding surprised. Marsha flinched, realizing that the Cousland siblings might have actually  _known_ that bastard. Marsha nodded, reluctantly. Masha whistled softly. “That must have been one hell of a fight.”

 _Armed with one knife, wearing a wedding dress, running out of time, blood everywhere_. “Yeah it was.”

“Who do we bring?”

Marsha bit her lip. Normally, she’d not want to bring humans into the alienage, but the thought of leaving her fellow Wardens behind seemed like a terrible idea. She’d need them. “Us five. Zevran.” She hesitated, wondering if she should bring Wynne or Morrigan. “Wynne.” They might need healing after all.

“What about the dogs?” Seren glanced down to the foot of Lira’s bed, where Carl was curled up next to Soris. The two dogs raised their heads, clearly knowing they were being discussed.

“No!” Marsha yelped, panicked at the thought. “Not so soon after a purge!”

Seren looked sick. “They set mabari on elves?”

“Yeah.” Marsha reached over and scratched Soris behind the ears. “Sorry boy,” she muttered softly. Soris whined slightly and nuzzled her hand.

“Alright,” Marsha said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

* * *

“Cousin? Welcome home! Come in, come in!”

“Soris!” Marsha launched herself towards her cousin, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. He was the same as he’d been before the wedding—he’d come out of the palace without a scratch, it seemed, for which Marsha was dizzyingly grateful.

“Wait, Soris? Like your dog?”

Soris looked at her, confused. “You have a dog?”

“A mabari,” Marsha said, sheepishly.

“And… you named it after me?”

Marsha felt the eyes of her friends on her back, and she shrugged slightly. “He had my back,” she said quietly. Soris looked away slightly, then forced his smile back onto his face.

“We assumed you were with the other Wardens at Ostagar. Things have been… difficult since you’ve been gone.”

“The purge?”

Soris nodded.

Marsha took a steadying breath. “How many died?”

“I don’t know. After the purge came some kind of pestilence. It’s hard to say who was killed by soldiers and who fell to disease.”

She could feel the others shift behind her, concerned by that. “Where’s Father?” She couldn’t see Cyrion anywhere.

“The healers took him into quarantine a few days ago. I’m sorry Marsha.”

Marsha felt herself pale. “Not your fault, Soris,” she muttered. “Where’s this quarantine?”

* * *

“Shiani!” Marsha felt her face light up as she recognized the bright red hair.

Shiani turned around slowly. “I don’t believe it,” she laughed, and then they hugged. Marsha grinned widely, relieved to see Shiani looking… better. There were dark circles under Shiani’s eyes, and she looked pale and thin, but better than last time. Marsha’s throat was tight. “Everyone thought… Valendrian held a funeral for you.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t send word,” Marsha said.

“Cousin, you have no idea… the things that happened after your wedding… I’m babbling, aren’t I? I’m so happy to see you!”

“A wedding? So there is a secretive side to you after all,” Zevran said, and Marsha couldn’t help but flinch. She’d never mentioned that to anyone. Only Duncan knew.

“I was betrothed. It didn’t end well.” They were all looking at her now. She wondered if Masha and Seren were remembering what she had been wearing when they first met.

“No? You left him at the altar, didn’t you?” His voice was teasing, and Marsha wanted to laugh, because  _if only_.

“Think of a fairy tale wedding. It was the opposite of that.”

“At least we can be sure that you looked stunning for the occasion.” He smiled at her.

She gave him a look, trying to tell him that they’d talk later, and then turned her attention back to Shiani.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she said to her cousin.  

* * *

They burst through the doors, all of them covered in blood.

Below them was a human who was definitely a mage.

“I am Calendrius. And you, I assume, must be the Grey Wardens I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard of us?” Masha spoke, voice dangerous. Her swords were still sheathed, but her body was coiled with the same tension that Marsha felt, so she doubted it would stay that way much longer.

“One can hardly get a word out of Regent Loghain besides “Warden” these days. It surpasses even “gold” in popularity.”

Marsha couldn’t help but grin at that, although it faded as she spotted someone familiar in one of the cages.

Her father was there, and he was staring at her like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Marsha forced herself to look back at the mage.

“Then you know you should be frightened of us.” Marsha could hug Krim. His hands were covered with tiny bolts of lightning, betraying his nerves, but he stood firmly, with his usual grin on his face.

“Now, now, is this how we begin? With bluster? I was hoping for… civility.”

Marsha nearly charged right away, but Lira placed a hand on her arm, holding her back. Her hands quickly dipped into the familiar sign for  _Loghain_. They needed to know how much of this he condoned. Marsha took a deep breath, and looked at her father again.

“As civilized as slavery?” Seren’s voice nearly trembled with rage.

“Business is business, my dear Warden. Even so, your point is made: you do frighten me. But you also intrigue me. I’ve heard that you are trying to erode Loghain’s support. It must be a difficult task, yes? Like washing away a mountain. Perhaps you could use some help.”

He was looking at Krim, Masha, and Seren, his main focus being on Krim, as well as Wynne. Marsha was surprised, but then she remembered he was Tevinter. She took a deep breath. He had to know who she was; there was no way that was a secret. And he was ignoring her, trying to do  _business_ with the humans.

“Oh, this should be good,” Krim said, leaning against his staff slightly.

“Sarcasm is beneath us both, my dear Warden.”  This time it was Zevran’s hand that clasped around her wrist, holding her back. Marsha wanted to scream. All she wanted to do was kill that bastard. Her father was in a  _cage_. She didn’t want to be pragmatic, she didn’t want to think about politics and the war, she just wanted to think about how she could kill this man, like she couldn’t kill the man responsible for the purge, since Masha and Seren had already done that.

He was still  _talking_ , jabbering about how Loghain would inevitably betray him, as if she  _cared_. Marsha could feel her wedding ring against her skin, beneath her armor, and it was not a comfortable sensation.

“So, here is my offer: one hundred sovereigns from you for a letter with the seal of the Teryn of Gwaren upon it, implicating him in all of this. Then, we leave a few days earlier than planned, with our profits and remaining slaves, unharmed.”  

“If you think we’re stupid enough to take that fucking offer!” Marsha had lost her hold on her tongue, her hands on her daggers.

“I’m speaking to your betters, knife-ear,” the mage said dismissively, and Marsha couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t let the others say anything, didn’t give them enough time to try to stop her. She vaulted over the balcony, and threw herself towards the man, blades drawn.

Marsha had never moved that fast. She was aware of the others’ presences vaguely—a lightning storm whipped around her that had to be from Krim, she felt Zevran’s familiar back be pressed against hers briefly as he kept her safe, but the rest was blood.

She hadn’t been this angry since the palace. There was nothing but blood.

“Enough! Enough!” Marsha only paused because she was struggling to pull her sword out of a man’s throat. She saw that Lira had her sword pressed against the mage’s neck, keeping him on his knees.

Marsha dropped her sword, letting it clatter to the ground, and strode towards him, fingers fumbling for her spare dagger.

“It… seems your reputation is an accurate one. I surrender.”

“I don’t think so,” Marsha snapped, and Seren and Wynne parted to let her pass. They were going to give this to her, she realized. They’d follow her lead on this, even though this might cost them the Landsmeet.

She had never been so grateful for her friends.

“Wait! Hear me out… dear lady.” The compliment rung false, but she paused anyway, wondering what offer he’d dredge up this time. “Were I to… use the life forces of the remaining slaves here, I could… augment your physical health a great deal!”

Marsha froze, staring at him. He thought that was an  _offer_? At least Vaughan had been smart enough to offer gold. “Allow me to leave this place alive and I would be more than happy to do this little service for you!”

“Do you know who I am?” Marsha demanded. “I am Marsha Tabris of the Denerim Alienage. And you can take your offer and go to the  _Void_!” She lunged forward, and lost herself in the fight.

She came to herself again, kneeling in the mage’s blood, breathing heavily. Masha’s hand was on her back, rubbing slowly in comforting circles, trying to calm her down. “Father,” she whispered instead of thanking her friend, stumbling to her feet and staggering towards the cage that held him and the other elves. She grabbed the lock and tried to pick it with trembling fingers.

Zevran’s hands closed over hers. She could barely look at him. “Let me,  _amor_.”

Zev was terrible at picking locks, something Marsha loved to make fun of him for, but he was better now than he had been when they’d first met. The lock to the cage fell to the ground with a clatter, and the door swung open.

Marsha threw herself into her father’s arms, and finally let herself break down, sobbing into his chest.

* * *

She had her mother’s dagger now. She stared at it, admiring. It was a good weapon.  _Fang_ , she remembered her mother had called it.

She’d lost her mother’s boots after Ostagar. The blood had soaked through, ruining them. She hadn’t told her father that yet. He’d probably be disappointed in her.

She sat on her old bed, thinking. The last time she’d been here, it had been before her wedding. Everything was so different now.

There was a soft whistle from the doorway. Lira was there, looking worried.

“Ah, do you… do you guys mind if I stay here tonight? The Landsmeet’s not until tomorrow and I’d… I’d like to see my family.”

Lira shook her head. Marsha heard a slight clamor that meant the others had been behind her.

“You guys can stay too,” Marsha blurted out. “I mean. I probably owe you all a drink or twelve. And Shiani never found my stash, so there’s plenty.”

“I  _knew it_!” Shiani shouted, faking rage. “You little liar!”

Lira grinned, and nodded.

“I’ll take the documents we got off the slavers back to the Arl, my dear,” Wynne said, squeezing Marsha’s shoulder. “You young ones have fun.”

Marsha grinned at Wynne slightly. “Thanks.”

Shiani glanced at Marsha. “You’re going to get all moody-drunk again, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” Marsha admitted.

“I’ll go make rabbit stew.”

“You have rabbit in the city?” Seren asked, curiously.

“It’s rabbit-of-the-city,” Shiani claimed, at the same time as Marsha said, “It’s rat.”

Lira perked up. She knew that a rat was good eating.

“Rat?” Krim looked curious. “Does it taste good?”

Marsha grinned slightly. “Oh, you’ll see.”

“Where is this stash of yours?” Seren asked, sitting down on the ground next to Marsha. “I think we all deserve a drink.”

Masha sat down next to Marsha. “You alright?” She asked quietly.

“Not at all,” Marsha said honestly, before Zevran settled down on her other side. “But I will be.”


End file.
